My friendly skies have left me dry again;
A cloud or two would do, but no such luck.
Upon a chance of rain I must depend.
My end would come if rainless lightning struck.
Forever it seems the wise farmer waits,
The thoughts I had of him fading from mind.
Crabgrass and broadleaf, with seducing traits,
Completely overrun me ‘til I’m blind.
These fellows make me think this is the life!
I’m under their protection. So secure
In this illusion, hidden from all strife.
But do impostors like these have the cure?
One drop is all I need, Lord, all I need.
Why stand by while withering souls still bleed?
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Jerry you whipped this one up out of nowhere!
ReplyDeleteReally enjoyed reading this because I am a part time country gal and can relate to drought
living on the driest continent on earth.Thankyou for joining in at such short notice.Now, what about a Petrarchan for next week?
ah yes water deprivation quicker and more urgently pressing than just about any other need short of breathing and rife with those delusions that "this is the life," especially when the friendly skies are those the muse once filled with floods of words that were like fresh rain on chapped lips
ReplyDeletestrong ending couplet that had my mind wandering off on the villanelle it could easily irrigate, while sipping here at more water than i might usually be drinking
l.m.
The last two lines are my favourite. And the line about "rainless lightning."
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